et exaltavit humiles
by Tantris
Summary: A short story about a Choosing. Or two. It is inspired by the season. As always, the Velgarth Universe belongs to Mercedes Lackey. This story is complete.


et exaltavit humiles

Coroc shivered. With Midwinter nearly upon Valdemar, the storm lashed the window with snow. Even with the blazing fireplace at his back, the cold reached into the room and chilled the young man who stared out into the darkness.

Coroc's own image was nearly a silhouette against the brightness of the room seen in the reflection. He could barely make out his own face. On the other side of the glass, a few snowflakes came close enough to shine out before the wind whipped them away or dashed them against the window pane.

Coroc was an athletic young man. Tall for his age, he was also broad-shouldered and very well-muscled. Training in sword-work and riding exercises consumed half of his days; the rest was consumed by his tutors in everything from rhetoric and courtly graces to history and foreign languages – Coroc had fluent command of Rethwellan and Hardornen in addition to Valdemaran. Coroc was being schooled to be the perfect knight as befit a son of the Lord Marshal.

His short black hair was cut in the military style; his father would have it no other way. Coroc's piercing eyes were dark, which gave his thin face a hawk-like appearance.

"Coroc! It is nearly time to go! Are you ready?" His mother's voice came down the hallway.

With a sigh, Coroc drew the curtains closed and turned to go. "Coming, mother." He said. He picked up his heavy fur coat and went to the head of the grand staircase where the family was gathering.

At thirteen, Coroc was just old enough to accompany his parents to the Queen's Midwinter dinner for her Council and their families. The exclusive, private affair marked the official beginning of Midwinter Court. Only members of the Royal Council, their spouses and unmarried children between thirteen and twenty were invited. As the second son of the Lord Marshal, Coroc was expected to attend.

Coroc dreaded the affair. He had seen formal dinners before when his parents had invited noble guests to their home or the family had been guests in the manors of his father's peers. The meals were interminably long and, though the food was rich, the portions were insufficient to satisfy his hunger. The conversation would be filled with elliptical references to the Court and to Matters of State that would be easily understood by those 'in the know' but baffling and meaningless to outsiders. What conversation was not related to those matters would be flattery and condescension aimed at gaining or holding status. There would be music, but it would be a light background not intended to distract from the conversation or stir the interest of the guests.

Coroc himself would be expected to be nearly invisible and silent except for the odd time that one of the adult guests would deign to ask him about his studies or training. Coroc would be expected to reply with a brief, polite (and modest) statement that the adult would feign interest in before promptly forgetting. (Coroc knew this from experience: Lord Gartheser had asked Coroc the exact same question and received the exact same answer during at least four previous dinners.)

The family assembled at the top of the stairs. Once assured that her children were properly dressed, Lady Ursula bade them put on their coats.

They proceeded down the stairs. Lord Ross and Lady Ursula led the family. Behind them, Japeth and Aileen followed as the two eldest children. Coroc walked alone in the rear as the most junior member of the family going to the affair.

The cold wind blasted them as they emerged from the house into the portico where the coach waited. Coroc glanced sympathetically at the coachman perched in the driver's seat, who hunched himself against the cold.

The family entered the coach and the footman closed the door. The coach rocked slightly as the footman got up behind. The coachman cracked his whip and the coach rolled forward.

The ride to the Palace seemed endless as the coach bounced and jounced in the rutted streets. At last, they reached the Palace gate and, after a quick inspection by the guard, went on to the main entrance.

The major-domo welcomed them to the Palace on the Queen's behalf. Coroc breathed a sigh of relief as he came into the warmth of the entry. After servants took their coats, a page escorted them to the reception room. The escort was a formality as Coroc's father certainly knew the way himself.

The reception and dinner were every bit as dull as Coroc expected. The only surprise was a pleasant one: Queen Selenay not only knew who he was, but asked him how his sabre work was coming along. The sabre was Coroc's preferred weapon but not one commonly favored in the Court. The Queen seemed genuinely interested in Coroc's response, going so far as to suggest he try a heavier sabre rather than the lighter one the family sword-master insisted upon.

After three dreary candlemarks, the dinner drew to a close. Unsurprisingly, Lord Gartheser had once again asked Coroc the same question he had previously asked. Coroc was still hungry, though thankful that his hunger had helped him stay awake.

The family donned their overcoats once more as the coach came up to the door. The storm was still blowing as the family got in.

Despite the downhill trip from the Palace, the coach went even more slowly on the way home. The snow was now deeper and the going harder for the horses. Coroc felt pity for the poor beasts straining in the cold.

The family was nearly home when the coach got stuck. Coroc listened to the coachman curse and crack his whip as the horses tried to pull out the coach of the snowbank. The footman got down and tried to free the wheel, but the coach remained stuck.

At long last, the coachman came to the door. "I am sorry, Milord, but I canna get it to move. Beg yer pardon, sir, but I will have to walk to the house to get help."

"Will it help if we get out, Jeffrey?" Lord Ross asked.

"It might, Sir." The coachman replied.

Lord Ross nodded to his family and got out. Japeth protested, but his father silenced him with a sharp order to get down.

Once all were out, Lord Ross looked around. "It is only two hundred yards to the house. We will get home and get warm more quickly if we simply walk from here."

Japeth protested again.

"You can stay here and freeze if you like," Lord Ross said, "but it will be at least a candlemark before the coach is free." Lord Ross took his wife's arm and they started down the street, trying to keep their footing in the ruts in the deepening snow.

Japeth grumbled and followed.

Coroc took Aileen's arm and helped his sister walk along.

Halfway to their destination, a figure stumbled towards them out of the dark. "Copper or a groat, ser?" The beggar held out his hand.

Aileen screamed slightly at the sudden appearance. Japeth turned "Filthy beggar, how dare you come to this neighborhood!"

"Shut up, Japeth!" Coroc said. He looked at the beggar in horror. The boy was haggard and emaciated; he shivered in his threadbare coat. How could he hope to survive the night?

Coroc put Aileen's hand in Japeth's. He unbuttoned his own coat and put it around the boy.

"Coroc, what are you doing? You will freeze!" Lady Ursula called back, shouting over the wind.

"I can last a hundred yards." Coroc shouted back. "He'll die if he doesn't find shelter."

Coroc put his arms around the beggar and steadied him, leading him towards the house.

The hundred yards was a frozen hell for Coroc, but at last they made it to the door. As he bundled the beggar inside, the boy fainted from the sudden warmth of the house. The downstairs butler caught the boy.

"Take him to the servant's quarters." Coroc ordered. He turned to face his family. His father smiled at him proudly. His mother looked worried. Japeth glowered.

Before anyone could say anything, there was a banging on the door.

The doorman opened it a crack. He looked out, jumped slightly and looked back at the family. With an astonished expression, he said. "You had better come here." He looked straight at Coroc.

Coroc went to the door and looked out. He met a pair of blue eyes. _::I am Warana. I Choose you.::_

Warana had climbed the stairs to the doorway. Her fore-hooves were on the top step, her hind hooves were half way down. Oblivious to her ridiculous pose and to the cold wind which blew around them, Coroc was filled with joy as he formed the bond with her.

The next candlemark was a mass of confusion. Rather than hold the door open or make Warana wait outside, Coroc brought her into the entry hall.

The sight of a Companion inside the house brought everyone from the pot boys to the maidservants into the front hall. The nursemaid even brought Coroc's two younger sisters down from the nursery to marvel at the 'horsie'.

At first, Lady Ursula insisted that Coroc should wait until the morning to go to the Collegium. Lord Ross, more aware of the proper procedure, persuaded her that Coroc must go at once.

Eventually, another winter coat was fetched for Coroc. He and Warana went back out into the night; he mounted at the bottom step as his parents watched proudly from the door. Coroc waved to them and disappeared into the darkness.

The journey back to the Palace took very little time. To Coroc, warmed by the presence of Warana, it took no time at all.

Dean Elcarth was waiting when Coroc and Warana appeared at the Collegium.

Coroc dismounted. He was dismayed when another Herald appeared to take Warana to Companions' stable and tried to resist being separated from her. _::Do not worry, Chosen. We will meet again in the morning.:: _Warana assured him.

Reluctantly watching her go, Coroc followed the Dean into the building.

Once in his office, Dean Elcarth had Coroc sit in a chair. "I won't keep you long, Coroc. It's late and you need some sleep. We will talk more in the morning."

Elcarth questioned Coroc for a short while. "Well, because you are noble-born we will need to…" The Dean stopped in the middle of his sentence. His face took on a distant look.

Elcarth blinked. "Dear me. This is unusual." He smiled at Coroc. "Please wait here for a bit. I will be back soon." The Dean left the room.

Coroc sat patiently, staring around the room. He took in the clutter of books and papers stacked everywhere.

After a quarter-candlemark, the Dean reappeared, his arm around a small figure bundled in a heavy fur coat. Coroc's coat.

The boy stared at Coroc in amazement. "You!" He said. "You saved my life!"

Coroc's amazement was equal to the boy's. It was the young beggar he had given his coat that evening.

"Chanur Chose Pike just moments after you left your home." Elcarth said. "She gives you her thanks. Pike would have died before she got to him but for your kindness.

"I think saving the life of a prospective Herald is a very good beginning for a new trainee, Coroc.

"Welcome to the Collegium, young Herald."


End file.
